


Sherlock: A Study In Relationships

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on the end of "A Study In Pink". An AU where Lestrade comes over to talk to Mycroft, and Sherlock and John both learn that John is Sherlock's date to Mummy's for the holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock: A Study In Relationships

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** Written after I saw this photo set. It can be found [here](http://ibegto-dreamanddiffer.tumblr.com/post/35025757232/sidingwiththeangels-benedict-cumberbatch)
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss, and Steven Moffat. The orignial characters are the property of Arthur Conan Doyle. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

'I know exactly who that is,' Sherlock practically growled. John frowned but followed his flatmate quickly and soon enough they'd reached the car.

Sherlock's "archnemesis" was standing beside it with the young woman John had met earlier. She was once again tapping at her BlackBerry, compeltely ignoring everyone around her.

The man's eyes flicked over Sherlock and John before his gaze wandered over their shoulders. It made Sherlock smirk- John was still just confused- and the man quickly looked back at the sociopath when he and John reached the car.

'So... another case cracked,' the man said, smirking slightly, 'how very public spirited. Though that's never your motivation, is it?'

Sherlock was glaring as he spat, 'What are you doing here?'

'As ever, I'm concerned about you,' the man responded.

'Yes, I've been hearing about your _concern_.'

'Always so agressive,' the man tisked. 'Didn't it ever occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?'

Sherlock looked incredulous as he said, 'Oddly enough, _no_.'

'We have more in common than you like to believe,' the man stated, his light blue eyes on Sherlock's own. John just watched the exchange like a tennis match; eyes flicking from Sherlock, to the mystery man, to Sherlock, and once again to the mystery man. 'This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer,' the man warned.

 _Oh God, they're going to kill each other,_ John thought. _They're_ actually _going to-_

'And you know how it always upset Mummy,' the man continued.

John's brow furrowed and all thoughts disintegrated. _Wait... what?_

Sherlock frowned. ' _I_ upset her? Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft!'

 _Mummy?_ 'No,' John suddenly said, drawing both men's attention. 'No, wait. Mummy, who's _Mummy_?'

'Mother,' Sherlock said without looking away from his archnemesis. 'Our mother. This is my brother, Mycroft.'

John's mouth dropped open. _Brother? He has a..._ brother _?_

'Putting on weight again?' Sherlock asked the elder Holmes with a sneer.

Mycroft smirked, a condescending glint in his eyes. 'Losing it, in fact.'

'He's your brother?' John gaped.

Sherlock turned to his flatmate, a look of confusion on his face. 'Of course he's my brother.'

John wet his lips. 'So... he's not...'

'Not what?' Sherlock asked while Mycroft frowned at the doctor.

'I dunno,' John said weakly, 'criminal mastermind?'

Sherlock shrugged one shoulder and turned back to his brother. 'Close enough.'

'For gooness sake,' Mycroft chuckled, 'I occupy a _minor_ position in the British government.'

'He _is_ the British government,' Sherlock immediately told John. 'When he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and looked down at his feet, looking the very picture of an exasperated older brother.

'Good evening, Mycroft,' Sherlock said, drawing the politician's attention. Sherlock was about to step away, clearly done with his brother, but Mycroft held his umbrella out. Sherlock shot a scathing look at him and snarled, 'Let. Me. _Go_.'

'Mummy's going to want to hear about John, Sherlock,' Mycroft said.

Sherlock froze, no longer trying to push past his sibling. His entire body went rigid and John watched a smirk tug at Mycroft's lips.

'What?' John said. Clearly he was missing something here.

'I'm not going home for Christmas,' Sherlock spat.

'Oh, but you are,' Mycroft grinned. 'If _I_ have to go then you certainly do too.'

'Why do either of us have to go?' Sherlock demanded.

Mycroft removed his umbrella, setting the tip back on the ground and leaning against it, right leg crossed over the other. Sherlock made no move to leave; he was clearly waiting for Mycroft's answer.

'Because Mummy wants us home,' the elder Holmes stated.

'Since when does that matter?' Sherlock practically whined. John's eyes swivelled to him; he'd never heard Sherlock sound like... such a _child_. Though he supposed he somtimes regressed when he and Harry argued.

'Since Mummy found out about Thomas,' Mycroft stated.

Sherlock frowned, eyes searching his brother's face, before he raised an eyebrow. 'Oh.'

'Yes,' Mycroft sighed.

'I see... well then that's your problem, not mine,' Sherlock said.

Mycroft smiled. 'It _would_ be my problem, yes... if I hadn't told Mummy about a certain soldier who moved in with you.'

His eyes flicked to John- who was once again feeling thoroughly lost- and Sherlock scowled. 

'You didn't,' the younger Holmes said.

'I did,' Mycroft nodded.

'Why?' Sherlock demanded. 'Why would you do that?'

'So I don't have to go to the manor alone,' Mycroft said, shrugging one shoulder elegantly.

'You... you...' Sherlock tried.

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow.

'Bastard!' Sherlock snapped.

'Yes, well... you're going whether you like it or not,' Mycroft smirked. 'And John's invited too, of course. Mummy made sure to tell me to pass along the message.'

Sherlock gaped at his sibling while John looked between them, wondering if punches were about to be thrown. As Sherlock tried to find his words, Mycroft's head tilted and he looked past John towards the police cars still lined before the school. Sherlock turned too and caught sight of Lestrade talking to Anderson, his back turned to the Holmes brothers and John.

Suddenly Sherlock smirked and whipped around to face his brother. 'And what about you?' he demanded.

Mycroft's eyes immediately left Lestrade and focused back on his brother. John watched his face darken while Sherlock's lit-up.

'Don't act like I haven't seen you ogling Lestrade over there,' Sherlock smirked.

Mycroft cleared his throat and shifted so he was standing on both feet, his umbrella clutched tightly in one hand. When Sherlock raised an eyebrow Mycroft's entire demenour changed; he stood tall, shifted a bit, and tried to smile; 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

John turned to look at Lestrade, who was now alone and looking their way... well, he was looking _Mycroft's_ way; he had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring at the older Holmes, not even bothering to avert his eyes when John caught sight of him.

Sherlock scoffed. 'Please, Mycroft-'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft tried.

'- you've fancied him ever since the first time you kidnapped him,' Sherlock continued.

John's eyebrows jumped even as he coughed and said, 'Er, Sherlock, that's... none of our business.'

Sherlock, of course, ignored his flatmate. 'Now that Thomas is out of the picture, why don't you go talk to Lestrade?' he asked.

'Why would I talk to him?' Mycroft countered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'You're insufferable.'

'Look who's talking,' Mycroft muttered.

Before Sherlock could speak, Lestrade was making his way over. John tried to hide a smile when he saw Mycrot straighten up, his chin up and back straight.

 _Doesn't fancy Lestrade my arse,_ the doctor thought.

'Mycroft, hello,' Lestrade said when he reached the group.

'Gregory, lovely to see you,' Mycroft smiled.

'What are you doin' here?' the DI asked.He glanced at Sherlock. 'Besides annoying your brother.'

Mycroft chuckled and it made him look years younger; a real smile tugged at his lips and John caught Anthea- Mycroft's PA- smirking behind her boss.

'Just enjoying the night,' Mycroft said. 'It's good to get out of the office.'

'Yeah,' Lestrade nodded in agreement.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and John snickered.

Clearly Sherlock couldn't handle his brother's presence anymore because he huffed and said, 'Good evening, Mycroft.'

Mycroft finally looked away from Lestrade, an eyebrow going up as his eyes rested on his brother.

'Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic,' Sherlock drawled before walking away.

John looked between Mycroft and Lestrade. The DI still had his arms crossed and was fidgeting, clearly trying not to stare at Mycroft... and Mycroft was trying not to stare at him.

'Right,' John said. 'Erm-'

'John!' Sherlock shouted.

'Right,' the doctor repeated. 'Bye.' He jogged after Sherlock, who was standing a few feet away scowling. They fell into step beside each other, neither saying anything.

Silence descended on Mycroft and Lestrade, the two looking at anything but each other, while behind them Anthea rolled her eyes.

Finally Lestrade cleared his throat and said, 'So...' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. The DI looked up at him and said, 'Er... you busy?'

'Not particularly,' Mycroft replied.

'Well, um...' the DI coughed again, 'you fancy... gettin' coffee after I'm finished here?'

Mycroft blinked and Anthea looked up from her BlackBerry. She stared at the DI before looking at her boss.

'Yes,' Mycroft finally said. 'I believe I can re-arrange by schedule.'

'Brilliant,' Lestrade grinned. 'So, I'll see you in about... twenty minutes? I just gotta finish up here then I can take half-an-hour.'

'Of course,' Mycroft nodded. 'And perhaps when you've wrapped up your paperwork we can... have dinner?'

A grin spread across Lestrade's face and Mycroft felt his heart skip a beat. 'Yeah,' the older man nodded. 'Sounds... yeah, awesome.'

The two smiled stupidly at each other and Anthea grinned as her eyes went back to her BlackBerry.

 

{oOo}

 

'So... your brother, huh?' John mused.

'Mm,' Sherlock murmured.

'He's... odd,' John tried.

Sherlock snorted. 'That's an understatement.'

John nodded. 'Christmas at your mother's...'

'So it seems,' Sherlock groaned. 'I hate going home.'

'I think most people do,' the shorter man said.

Sherlock just nodded and continued to lead the way down the street.

After a few seconds John said, 'I have to go, don't I?'

'I'm not going alone,' Sherlock immediately stated. 'Not a chance; I'm not getting stuck with Mummy fawning all over Mycroft and Lestrade.'

John chuckled. 'Right, right. Er... I won't be, like... your date, will I?'

Sherlock glanced at him. 'Why else do you take someone home for Christmas?'

'Right.'

'Does that bother you?' Sherlock asked.

John tilted his head. He'd tried so hard earlier- both with Mrs Hudson and Angelo- to clearly state that he _wasn't_ Sherlock's date. But that was because Sherlock seemed so... asexual. Now, though...

'No,' he said. He finally looked up at Sherlock and their eyes met. 'But I reckon our first date shouldn't be at your mum's.'

A smile spread across Sherlock's face and he nodded. 'We _are_ going for Chinese,' he said.

'Yeah,' John nodded. 'You reckon we'll get a candle this time?'

'Are you going to deny it's a date?' Sherlock countered.

'No...' John said, 'no, I don't think I will.'

The two looked at each other again and started giggling. When their shoulders brushed neither moved away. Instead they continued to walk side-by-side, smiles on their faces the entire time.

 

{End}

 


End file.
